


Not Worth Reading

by Lucenthia



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action, Angst, Oneshot, unusual narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:23:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3941809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucenthia/pseuds/Lucenthia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What defines a shattered heart? A broken life? An aimless existence? When is a person dead, and when is he alive? When is a person in love, and when is he exposing himself to torture? When are memories worth reliving, and when is a story not worth reading?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Worth Reading

It was not a crush.

You might roll your eyes, but I should know. Crushes make you lose most rational thought when you're in proximity of your crush, and he makes you feel guilty for wanting something that doesn't belong to you but content just by being there.

I should know, because I've had a crush before, and it  _hurt_. I'd remember eating cake with Percy on his fifteenth birthday, looking at the blue icing rimmed around his lips, and I had bitten my tongue and thought about dumping him into the river Styx.

That was the mood killer I needed.

But  _he_ was different.

"Here, take this and give it to anyone who needs it." Will had said, thrusting a pile of towels into my hands. It had been five days after the Giant War, and twelve hours since he had demanded that I see him in the infirmary. After tossing and turning in my new cabin, which I  _would_ be redecorating, I had gradually sidled towards the infirmary.

"Hello? Earth to Nico?" I had been staring at him, not knowing if he was serious or not. He was frowning, and back then, I thought it was at me. "We've got plenty of campers with minor infections, so just give it to them to dip in water and put over the wound."

I nodded slowly and tentatively did what the other Apollo kids were doing. I kept on glancing back at Will, wondering if this was some sort of test. Maybe he and his siblings were just waiting to see how I would mess up, or maybe they wanted to see what a failure I was. I had seen shades of campers whispering behind me in Tartarus, but those had fangs and claws that shredded my skin as I wandered that barren hell. " _Stay with us,"_ They had said, " _Stay with the ghosts and monsters where you belong."_

But what happened next in the infirmary was worse.

"So, I hear someone's got their eye on Will." One of the Apollo campers slung an arm around me while the patient I was giving towels to started giggling.

I immediately jerked away, dropping the towels on an indignant Ares camper, who told me to go step on a landmine. I looked over at Will, who seemed to be the only camper still working. His hands danced around a deep cut embedded in the shoulder of a Hephaestus camper who was wincing in pain. Light from the large windows at the end of the infirmary lit up the bandage wrapping itself around the injured shoulder neatly.

He looked up and realized half of his siblings were staring at him. "Well?" He said, "We've got injured campers, in case you haven't forgotten."

His siblings dispersed while I stood there staring at the way limber fingers tightened splints around a fractured forearm belonging to another Ares camper, who looked annoyed at even needing help. He even tried to leave once the splint was attached, but was firmly pushed back down.

I continued dispensing towels and following Will's siblings around, and I  _didn't_ care about the person they were talking about. Not one bit.

* * *

I wasn't disappointed when Will told me the running joke, because why would I care that someone supposedly 'had their eye' on him.

It wasn't disappointment I felt when he laughed at the end of the day and said, "Don't worry, they say it to every new camper who comes near me." The orange sun signalled the end of the day, and, miraculously, nothing had gone wrong. I considered offering a prayer to Apollo, but remembered Hazel telling me about an angsty and self-pitying teenager who had been swindled by Leo Valdez of all people, and I was pretty sure Apollo didn't have much to do with it.

Kayla, the sibling who had brought up someone having  _that_ kind of interest in Will, had waved goodbye to Will several minutes before, and it was just the two of us in the room. I had then mumbled, "Can I go?"

Will had nodded, but Kayla's taunting smile had rolled around my head like an oiled ball bearing. I hesitated, then said, "Kayla told me someone has a crush on you."

Dozens of scenarios through my head, ranging from Will yelling at me to get out, to him admitting it was Drew Tanaka from the Aphrodite cabin. I hadn't been at camp for a week, but she had gotten my attention, and not in the good way.

What I hadn't expected him to do was to laugh and say, "Ever since they found out I was gay, they've tried setting me up with every male camper that's come here."

I remember being scalded in a pit of acid in Tartarus, but hearing Will's casual admission made my heart clench and skin burn in embarrassment.

He must have seen my stunned look, because he frowned and asked, "This isn't going to be a problem, is it? Percy mentioned you growing up in the 30's."

The idea of someone like  _me_ having a problem with that was laughable. I wanted to tell him there and then that I was the same. But he might have drawn away from me, maybe thinking I had an ulterior motive. Or maybe worse. Scenarios sped through my head and I just managed to croak, "No, I'm fine with it."

Will's face lit up and he beamed at me. "Well, thanks for coming, Nico."

* * *

The shield Will thrust into my hands wasn't a shield, because shields are meant to protect us, and what he thrust into my hand just weighed me down in more ways than one.

This was the first Capture the Flag game since the war against Gaia, and after lots of begging from Jason, I was standing next to him and the rest of his team with my hands in my pockets and back against a tree.

Will had come up to me and said, "You should put on some armor." He made me take a shield that immediately dragged my arm down.

"I've never used armor in my life." I retorted.

"If you want to keep on living, maybe you should change that." Will said, "What if you get hurt."

"I'll live." I didn't know why I was entertaining Will. He had no right to tell me how to survive.

"Come on, what harm is it going to do?" Will put his hands on his hips and glared down at me.

"I can do what I want." I pushed past him and started walking away. Chiron was announcing the rules as Will grabbed my shoulder.

I automatically whirled around with my sword pointed at his throat. His eyes widened and I immediately withdrew my sword, wondering if there was any chance Will would still think I wasn't dangerous.

I could see the hurt in his eyes and the way he slowly stepped back, and before he could form his emotions into words and fling them at me, I said, "Just stick to what you're good at."

The horn rang throughout the woods, and the campers beside us yelled and charged into the forest. I didn't look back and ran towards the flag.

I hadn't been listening to Jason when he was giving out the attack plan, but I kept on running until I came to a river. It was the border between the two teams. I realized with a chill that I had been here before, five years ago, when the Oracle had left the attic to recite a prophecy that led Bianca to her death. My feet froze and I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

I didn't cry, because crying required tears, and my eyes stayed dry. I didn't cry, because I didn't sob or utter a single sound. I just stood rigid as I remembered seeing Bianca leave camp with the hunters, thinking that Percy would keep her safe.

I don't know how long I stood there until I heard a rustle, then a group of campers ran past carrying our flag. They were cheering, seeing no one in sight and only several metres until they crossed the river. Without thinking, I melted into the shadows, materializing just in time to grab the flag from their hands and shadow-travelling away.

I stumbled out at Zeus' Fist where the flag was supposed to be and fell on my knees. My vision was pulsing between an empty whiteness and blurred images of moss on a tree root, and I felt a tingling sensation through my entire body. I slowly staggered up to my feet, just in time to see Will striding towards me. "What were you thinking!"

I didn't bother to reply and walked past him. He tried to stop me, but his arm passed right through me. He stumbled, off balance, and I slipped through the rest of him, planting the flag where it should have been.

I turned around, only to feel Will grabbing onto my arm and staring me down.

I wasn't happy when I felt Will's hand around my wrist, because I knew he would only try to act like my  _mom_ again. I vehemently told myself that the sudden warmth of his hand which made my heart beat even faster was just the after-effects of shadow-travel.

"Do you want to kill yourself?" Will yelled.

"I can handle it." I tried to shake him off, but only succeeding myself in pushing myself off balance. I stumbled and would have fallen off Zeus' Fist if Will wasn't still holding onto me.

"No, you can't." Will muttered. The dismissal cut to the bone, and this time I succeeded in pulling away from his grip. "What's your problem! You think you're my mom?"

"I think you're trying to kill yourself, and I'll be damned if I'll let another person I care about die!" Will yelled.

"I'm not going to die! You think that after everything I've done, some cyclops is going to kill me?"

"You could barely steal a flag without dying! And for what?"

"I'm fine!"

Will ignored me and said, "Your life isn't something you waste! Do you know how many campers I've seen die? And you just want to join them even though I actually li-" He stopped short and breathed heavily at me. "Look, I've just seen too many people die in the last week because of the war, and I don't want you to be another one of them too."

"People die all the time, Solace, one of us could be next, and there's nothing you can do to change that."

I had walked in the Fields of Asphodel and seen the rich, poor, proud, passionate, all fade away into the uniform apathetic souls that grew in the monotonous fields. Suddenly, imagining Will's blond hair being bleached to the no-color of dust and his shining eyes being hollowed away to soulless pits made me even angrier.

But before either of us could respond, Zeus' Fist came alive, and not in the  _I have come to help you from the dead!_ revived. And even then, the dead coming back to life generally wasn't all it was cut out to be, trust me, I should know.

But this wasn't dad sending me a gift, this was coming alive with monsters.

Stone snakes burst from the the pile of rocks and darted straight for the both of us. My sword sprang to my hand and I darted forward, decapitating two snakes with one stroke. I whirled around to face another one, but the sudden movement sent a sharp stab through my head, and I stumbled backwards as a rock snake slammed into my ribs. I rolled off Zeus' fist and twisted my left ankle when I landed. I limped to my feet just in time to see Will dispatch another two snakes with his bow and arrow. From the bottom of the rock I saw dozens more snakes curling their way to Will's position.

Without thinking, I willed three skeleton warriors to rise from the earth. Exhausted, I fell to the ground and felt myself slowly sinking into the ground. I pointed a translucent finger towards the rock and croaked, "Help Will."

I don't remember the rest.

* * *

Will and I weren't sent on a quest, because a quest had to be issued by the Oracle, and our very mission was to  _free_ the Oracle. 

Will told me I had to go with him on a quest with guilt in his honest face and a lie on his tongue. He started by saying, "I'm sorry."

I had started to reply when Coache Hedge yelled, "What in the name of Dionysus were you thinking, kid?"

"You've been hanging around Will too much." I muttered, trying to sit up.

"You bet I've been!" Coach Hedge said, "We've been looking after you for an entire day!"

"What?" I bolted into an upright position before the sudden movement seemed to make the bed float up to meet me.

"Where else would I be?" Will asked as my body reorientated itself "You'd have been dead if Jason and the others hadn't come when they did."

"Doing anything else that didn't waste your life." I said, "Why would you waste time on me?"

"Because, well, you almost killed yourself to help me." Will wasn't looking me in the eye, which was a change.

"I'm not dead." I told Will, "And it wasn't your fault."

"It might be. The snakes were after me."

"What? That's stupid. Monsters don't normally pick targets." I said.

"Well, there's more." Will said, "You see, we were trying to figure out why the earth snakes attacked me, and Rachel thinks she knows why."

"Rachel?" I asked, "What does she have to do with this." I barely knew the Oracle, and had only seen her once or twice a few years ago.

"She thinks it's the start of a prophecy, one that she and Ella have been able to remember." By now I had learned to be worried whenever Will wouldn't look me in the eye, and right now he was treating me like I was Medusa.

I gestured for him to continue and he said, "Well, Chiron's picked me and you to go help Rachel fulfill this prophecy, especially since it probably pertains to the Oracle Spirit."

"Why us?" I sat up slowly again, and this time I didn't fall back down.

"She thinks the prophecy refers to us." Will said, "I tried to talk her out of it-"

"Of course you did," I sighed. "Look, just so long I don't shadow-travel, I'll be fine." I got out of bed, only to realize that my entire body was covered in bandages.

"Is this the same gunk you put on me last time?" I asked Coach Hedge.

"Nuh uh, this is going to make the last one look like spring water!" Coach Hedge grunted. "The paste is made of mashed granola and Cliff bars, nothing more energizing than that. And all with liberal soaking in Lucozade and an ounce of Red Bull. Beat that with your fancy nectar!"

"Thanks." I tried to sound sarcastic, but it came out more grateful than I had intended.

I slowly tugged the damp bandages off me, and they fell to the ground in a graceless heap. I realized belatedly that the bandages were the only thing I was wearing, and Will gaped at me as I grabbed my clothes from a stool nearby. I blushed, knowing how scrawny and skeletal I looked. I could see my ribs jutting out, and my spine pressed against my skin as I bent over to pull my trousers up.

"So what did the prophecy say?" I asked, pulling my shirt over my head. Once again, Will refused to look at anything other than Coach Hedge's hooves. He took a deep breath and said,

_"Apollo's child shall face his foe_

_in treasured caverns deep below,_

_heralded by earthen snakes,_

_driven to soil by feathered stakes."_

"So what part of that points to me?" I asked, "I guess you shooting down the 'earthen snakes' was pretty clear."

Will cleared his throat and said, "We think this refers to setting the Oracle free. We have to go kill Python."

"In treasured caverns deep below?"

Will nodded. "Chiron wants us to leave as soon as possible. But if you still need to rest…"

"Of course not." I summoned my sword, forged with a lot of help and manipulation from King Minos, and swung it experimentally. The cold touch of the Stygian Iron gave me strength and I walked out the door.

* * *

What I saw wasn't a bow and arrow, because bows and arrows are weapons and these splinters of wood bent out of shape only brought memories. 

I told myself I was ready to face the Hunters, that I had stopped hating them for _(_ _stealing)_  convincing Bianca to join them. It had been Will's idea, and I didn't protest, because my grief was a thing of a past. 

Only when I saw a Hunter with jet black hair, pale skin, and pools of moonlight dancing behind her eyes, I knew that grief was like Gaea. It might lie dormant forever, but it was always there. "We want to speak to Artemis." Will said.

 The Hunter ran back into the camp to tell her bretheren while Will asked me, "You're trembling. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Stop saying it's nothing when it's not!" Will said, "I thought they helped you and Reyna bring the Athena Parthenos back."

"They did, and I'm fine." I jerked away from Will's grip, just as the Hunter came running back. "My lady says she'll see you."

I don't remember much of the meeting. Will did most of the talking. Looking back I guess we were lucky to escape there without getting turned into marmots. The camp looked exactly the same as it had when Bianca had sworn a vow to Artemis that had gotten her killed. Wolves prowled through rows of tents and falcons circled overhead. The only difference was that there were less Hunters. It had only been a few weeks, and they hadn't had time to recover from Orion.

Artemis recognized me when I went in, but focused on Will as he started explaining our quest. Nothing happened between us. There was no drama or hatred. Bianca was a dull pain in my chest that I had come to live with. We all had our ghosts, even Will, as I would soon find out. The conversation ended quickly, and Artemis gave us directions to Python. She even conjured a truck that was parked a few kilometres away. That was nice of her. The Gods do have moments of compassion in between their cruel ones. 

It's funny how they think one cancels the other out. 

* * *

 We weren't stuffed in a box for the journey to Python's lair, because a box cages things in. And when I woke up against Will's chest with his arm around my shoulders, I never felt freer.

We had stuffed ourselves inside a crate of denim , and had to wait for an hour before the truck started moving. I had fallen asleep in the interim, and awoke to see Will's dimly lit cheek hovering over mine.

I considered jerking away, but there was no room to go. Besides, I don't think I would have drawn away even if I could.

The whirring of the truck vibrated through the wooden crate, and the humming was broken by Will muttering, "Don't die for me."

"Just shut up, I'm not dying." I replied. I was getting annoyed by Will's overprotection.

"It's just that…" Will's voice trailed off, then he ploughed on. "The prophecy. There was more."

"It talks about me, doesn't it."

"I don't really want to think about it," Will said, "But the last two lines were,

' _Release the future with one last breath_

 _taken by a vengeful lord of death.'_ "

I shivered as Rachel's words echoed through my head. "Prophecies can mean lots of things."

"I just don't want people dying for me again." Will's grip tightened on my shoulder.

"Tell me about it."

"You know, I'm the third head counsellor our cabin's had in the past two years." Will said, "The past two died in the events leading up to the Titan Wars.

"I know, I was there. I felt their passing."

Will started violently and asked, "Really? Did they obtain Elysium?"

"I don't know." It was true. When Lee Fletcher died, I was contemplating how to tell Percy that he needed to jump in the River Styx. When Michael Yew died, I was working up the courage to tell my dad he was wrong and needed to help Percy, which wasn't a smart move when he could literally send me to hell.

Percy had been rubbing off on me.

"I became a medic so I didn't have to see people die, especially in battle." Will said, "But sometimes it doesn't seem to make a difference."

"We saw what happened when Death was chained." I said, "And people have been dying ever since Prometheus gave us fire."

"But still," Will started to say, but I interrupted him.

"We all die. But sometimes we can choose when and maybe even how. I've seen too many souls in the Fields of Asphodel just die from a car crash, or a disease. Dying for something, or someone, would be a privilege."

"I don't want you to die! Is it really that hard for you to understand?" In the enclosed space, Will's voice was louder than usual. His arm was gripping my shoulders tightly enough to bruise.

"Why do you care so much? You hardly know me!"

"Because you're a good person who's been through worse than death, and I don't want you to go through that again." Will's voice died to a quivering whisper, and the familiar tightening in my chest made me want to cry.

But I didn't cry, because tears were heralds of sorrow, and my cheek was wet from overwhelming joy.

* * *

Will didn't have a weapon in his hands when we tumbled out of the Amazon crate because weapons were designed to hurt and kill, and he only used it to protect things. The minute we emerged into the warehouse, grey snakes lined with scales of stone shot out of the darkness and lunged towards Will. We started killing them. As Will pinned snakes to the ground with his arrows, I pointed in the direction they were coming from. "Heralded by earthen snakes, driven to soil by feathered stakes."

Will nodded his understanding and we followed the snakes to their source. The snakes slithered over the stained metal floor, leading us to an open container box. We peered in and saw a pit, where a few snakes still dared to come out of. Retrieving an arrow from the limp body of a snake, Will disappeared into the pit and I had to run to keep up with him.

After running downwards through almost pitch-black tunnels, we emerged into what looked like a hoarder's heaven. The ceiling was stacked almost fifty feet high with washing machines, and there were piles of tottering boxes which all said  _THIS SIDE UP_  and leaned against each other. Hundreds of bags hung from one section of the wall behind stacks of T-shirts.

The room rumbled. Both Will and I tensed, searching for the source of the sound. We slowly made our way deeper into the cavern until we saw, curled up in a spiral, Python. Its beady eyes stared up at us malevolently, as if all it was contemplating was the number of different ways it could kill us. They never blinked once, and both of us were, for a moment, entranced by those deadly yet alluring irises. They were a deep yellow with streaks of orange swirling away from the pupil.

But the spell was broken as Python unfurled itself and heaved its way towards us.

* * *

I'm not dead. The dead either live in exquisite pain, collective apathy, or eternal bliss, and I don't fit any of those categories.

I forget how long I've been wandering, searching, hoping…

I remember Percy passing by the Fields of Asphodel some time ago. His hair was white and his face wrinkled, but his eyes gleamed euphorically as he made his way to Elysium. Annabeth followed shortly afterwards. The two of them had to be one of the first heroes to die of old age.

Writing all of this down has brought back more memories. I remember Hazel talking to me at one point when I just started looking. She was crying and asking me to come back. The memory brings a twinge of pain in my stomach, but it quickly fades, like everything else does.

I'm writing this down because I was starting to forget the important things. The Fields of Asphodel has that effect; it saps souls until they're dry husks ready to be crunched underfoot. But writing about the beginning leads to the ending, and as one poet said, "there are no happy endings, endings are the saddest part. So give me a happy middle, and a very happy start." We passed the happy middle and the very happy start long ago, and here we are at the epilogue.

I'm not shattered.

I still have purpose in this dreaded world that grinds the dead to dust.

I don't love him, because love can only come after months or even years of friendship, and I had only known him for a few weeks.

I'm not broken.

My body and mind still work as well as they did when I was alive, and I haven't forgotten my goal. It's all I've been thinking about ever since I started wandering the Fields of Asphodel.

This is not a tragedy.

He's still out there in these fields, and all I have to do is find him. Then we'll get that happy ending that was thought to be impossible.

This is not the ending.

Because I  _have_ to believe that one day I'll find him and I can say sorry. I can apologize for almost being eaten by Python. I can say sorry for standing over his corpse and wiping Python out of existence at the cost of my presence in the living world.

I don't regret it.

I had done the same to Bryce Lawrence lifetimes ago, and Python was only a little harder.

The oracle was released by my final breath, and the quest was a success.

I'm not a _mania_.

I remember my dad striding in here and yelling at me to save myself. He called me a _mania_ and said that I would be lost if I kept on living this path of regret and sorrow.

But I'm not lost.

I know exactly where I am and what I have to do. No matter how long it takes, I will never lose my purpose.

This is not worth reading.

I don't know why you set your eyes on this travesty of a life. Come back when I've found him and we're living happily ever after.

My life has not ended.

It only ends when I've found Will. We may be at the epilogue, but the ending has yet to come.

This is not the end...

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! Hope you all enjoyed that, because I sure had fun writing it.  
> First of all, this fic was inspired by this poem here:  
> biancadiangeno.tumblr.com/post/117614503681/
> 
> I really loved it, and if you readers haven't seen it, I'd recommend you check it out.
> 
> Anyways, any feedback or just comments would be appreciated. Do you think I dragged it out too much? Did I rush Will and Nico's interactions too much? Any typos? What did you like about it? Anything would make my day.
> 
> Thanks!


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